Ironhope
by Roronoa Reno
Summary: When a vile wolf named Yuyego the Brutal attacks the Cat Tribes. A corsiar ferret named Veyak Triago and his horde attack Redwall. Unlikely alliances are formed, and help comes in from unusual places.
1. Prolouge

Hello everybody, I would like to thank you for coming and viewing my story

**Hello everybody, I would like to thank you for coming and viewing my story. I hope you all enjoy it and review to show me how you liked it, and how I could make it better. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Redwall, but I will when I finish training my evil penguin army. -.-**

**Status: **

**Chapter – 0**

**Book – 1**

_**Prologue**_

As Mother Nature began painting the sunset with an aura of rustic colors. Ranging from light honey, burnt orange, deep maroon, crimson, and earthy brown. A dark, gray color rose from the ground. Almost smoke like; in fact, it was smoke! A baritone cackle shot through the air like a thunderbolt. It resonated from the mouth of matted, scarred wolf with powerful muscles which could snap a creature's spinal cord. He was clothed in a garb of white, and over that a breast-plate of polished silver with insignia of a wolf howling at the moon beaten into it by master metalworker. Under that was a kilt made from the ragged pelts of many woodlanders. Cloaking him was a simple cape of silk, dyed the shade of an amethyst. Despite his appearance, the timber wolf wasn't a posh, childish ruler. He was a seasoned veteran of war; he had fought and killed many times before. He was Yuyego the Brutal, and commander of a savage vermin horde unlike any other.

The myrtle-colored meadows and plains were turned to ash as a barbaric platoon of vermin marched across a burning village, plundering and looting as they went. Screams of feral cats filled the air as the fled from there tribal home. Some mothers screamed for there young ones, and some felines took up arms against the seasoned battlers. Yet they were no match for volleys of arrow-shafts, and stones. Yuyego looked on and laughed a sinister laugh as he watched them suffer against his bloodthirst mob.

"Soon those pesky cats will fall the steel of my troops, then onward will I expand my empire, until even the mightiest warlord will tremble at my name!" Yuyego said with a snicker, and a sneer, revealing a row of tawny colored teeth.

August Spikeheart was a simple hedgehog farmer who was enjoying his day. Over the past five days, hurricane winds and rains had pelted his coastal residence. He and his family lived a cliff-face, in an underground house hidden from corsairs who patrol the waters and do petty raids on houses for anything of value. He and his family where quite safe from harm, but being cooped up like birds in a cage was annoying. Plus it was harvest season and there was much to be done. He was preparing a small night time snack of scones and oatmeal when he heard a knock on the door.

"Strange," He muttered to nobody, "Who could be up at this hour of the night,"

August slipped on his goose-feather slippers and hobbled to the door. When he opened it, he gasped at what he saw. In the pale moonlight was a group of ragged-looking vermin all dressed in the manner of pirates. All over the shoreline were fires with vittles roasting, and seadogs drinking grog, sleeping, arguing, and chatting. He didn't even think of them, all he saw was a weasel with a cutlass over the through of his youngest daughter. She was wailing as a stoat walked up dressed in posh clothes. His tunic was green and had a gold outline of a dragon on it. Over his shoulders was a cloak of emerald green, fastened by a brass button. Around his waist was an amber scarf which hung a scimitar with a brass handle, and a dirk with a silver butt. His voice was smooth, and suave, like a fair wind blowing softly in the ear.

"Kind sir, will you be so kind as to point us lost travelers in the direction of one Redwall Abbey?"

**Thanks for reading and stay tuned for chapter two, remember to review! Scuttles off to plan world domination**


	2. Today We March!

**Welcome back to Ironhope, the first book in the Ironclad series. Based off of the series of bestselling books by Brian Jacques.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the series _Redwall,_ one day though... -.-**

**Status:**

**Chapter – 1**

**Book – 1**

"**TODAY WE SHALL MARCH,"**

In the ghastly, pale moonlight an armada of wooden ships laid beached a coastline. The once mighty fleet was rotting and obliterated. The crew of the boats made bonfires on the beach, pillaging and plundering the ships were the main activity going on, and many vermin could be seen carrying the last bit of valuable objects from crafts. On the cliff-face a hedgehog gripped his young one and fled inside into a network of caves, but that was no matter to the privateers. They choose to drink, eat, and sleep for the night. They had survived a typhoon and it was a time of celebration. Only one wasn't celebrating on the beach. He was dressed in a striking garb. His shirt was a bright yellow and over that was a Scarlett overcoat that reached down to his calf. His pants where a crimson color like the color of a rosy apple. Atop his cranium was a tricorn hat which was a peat-colored brown. Around his glittering silver eyes was kohl, a soot and ash material. The ferret was captain of the wild corsairs, he was called by many as Veyak Triago the Gentlebeast.

Veyak looked upon his crew with a sneer as he stood on the deck of an annihilated boat. In his hand he clutched a silver scimitar with vivid gold lining. He watched as a stoat as pompously dressed as him walked through the scene of mayhem over to him. In his hand he held a piece of parchment with a crude map hurriedly scratched upon it. The lone vermin made his way up to his captain and held out the paper. With a small growl Veyak grabbed the map and scanned his eyes over it. The map showed Mossflower Woods, a big volcano labeled Salamandastron, and the thing that caught the eye of the ferret was an Abbey, named Redwall.

"Is this all you got Gritpaw?" He scorned, "A chart drawn by a young one?"

The suave stoat retorted with, "It would be enough to get us to Redwall without trouble milord,"

"I made that mistake before and now look at us!" Veyak shouted and pointed a paw at the devastated armada.

"Yes, but-"

"Gritpaw, you have always been a good assistant. Don't make me kill you, cause I can." Butted in Veyak in a calmer tone. "I want the horde armed and ready for a long trek in the morning,"

Gritpaw could only gulp and hobble off to get the deed done. Veyak watched with a keen eye on his second-in-command as he shuffled from one fire to another telling the vermin his wishes. The ferret sighed and looked up at the cliff-tops, tomorrow he will march forward and begin the slaughter. His sharp silver eyes gleamed like glossy stars in the lights on the bonfire.

**In the lands of the Cat Tribes**

In the misty night, the silhouettes of trees stirred slightly in the breeze, across the ebony forest shot a creature. His tabby fur was turned black in the inky darkness as the feline shot forward on all four paws. His breathing was hard as he charged through the gorse and bracken. His body was covered in tattoos, circles and squiggles designed to show what tribe you where from. The finally stopped when he reached a small meadow where cats of all felines had built makeshift homes out of cloth and wood. Cats stepped out of there shelters to see the young cat approach. Out of the mob stepped an old, wise feline, he had an amulet over his neck to show that he was the leader of that tribe. Out of his mouth came a baritone voice, laden with age.

"Icrus, what news from the lands of the Windplain Tribe?"

"Bylus, the Windplain tribe, Yuyego has destroyed them!"

Gasps of many cats filled the air and was only stopped when Bylus lifted his paw to silence them.

"Icrus, can we help them?"

"No, the entire village is ash, littered with corpses, many have fled."

More gasps and a few began to cry, others slinked back to there houses not wanting to hear more.

"Go inside everyone, this is grave news but we are all safe," Bylus added under his breath, "For the moment,"

**On the Coastline**

Vermin flocked and surrounded there leader. All of them were armed to the bone with assortments of spears, knifes, swords, bows, arrows, and javelins. There fur was matted and on there faces was war paint. Crudely added red mush that stuck to the fur until it washed off so that they wouldn't kill each other in the heat of battle. Out of there mouths came a resounding crash of noise as they called for war and battle. There was a creak and the crowd became silent, the door to the ships galley opened up and out stepped Veyak Triago, conquerer of the seas. All around him vermin cried out in honor of him. His paw flew up to silence them, and one thing came out of his mouth, but it was enough.

"Today we shall march!"

**Thank you for reading and stay tuned for the next chapter.**


	3. Ash, Soot, and the Reek of Death

**Reviews:**

**Foeseeker: I understand and I will fix it when I have time, but I will make sure that I will review every chapter for any sort of typo. Thank you for bring this to my attention.**

**Jade TeaLeaf: Thank you for the comment and the criticism. I will fix everything as soon as I possibly can.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Redwall (Scuttles off to plot world domination)**

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"**Ash, Soot, and the Reek of Death,"**

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**(Morning, Redwall Abbey)**

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The jubilant sky echoed with the tranquil sounds of the birds. Ivory clouds drifted across the ocean of azure sky as Redwallers woke up for the day. Soon the serene woodland noises were drowned out by the sounds of woodlanders getting their morning chores done. Soon the courtyard had throngs of creatures toiling in the golden sunlight. The clatter soon subsided and the crowds retreated inside; welcomed by the scent of fresh baked turnip and beet turnovers. Atop the ramparts a solitary otter stood overlooking the vast Mossflower Woods. His simple robes and straw sandals would make him look like any other beast had chosen to take their breakfast to Redwall's wall-tops. Yet he was no regular creature, no he was not. His name was Ryhlo, and he was the father abbot of all Redwall.

The old otter sat down with a hefty heave. The dusty, pink stone was not all as comfortable as the softly padded chairs down at Cavern Hole. Yet Abbot Ryhlo was to old to care and began to nibble at a honey-smeared scone he had been clutching in his paw. He enjoyed the soft sounds, and the fresh oxygen he encountered during his meals atop the walls. The soft cooing of the birds especially pleased his ancient ears. Off to his left there came a scurrying, and soon a hooded mole approached the Father Abbot. Her snug, auburn, felt tunic fit her delicate form as she hobbled over to join her friend. He patted the mole's velvety, amber forehead. He spoke in a raspy voice, laden with age and wisedom.

"Hello Miggim, what tasty treats do you bring from the kitchen?"

Not a sound escaped from Miggim's small mouth. Out of her coat which she wore to fight the obliterating cold. She drew a package, dull and khaki in color, and holding it together was a small, tough rope. With a tiny flick of a digging claw, the straw-like rope was severed. Wafting from the box was the scents of many baked goods. Chestnut brown breads with hazelnuts sprinkled on top like fallen leafs on earth. Bronze-colored rolls lathered in meadow-cream and sliced fruits. Mahogany pasties in filled with celery, turnips, and potato leeks. The overwhelming aroma of spices almost toppled Abbot Ryhlo over the edge to a conclusion. Yet Ryhlo kept his balance and picked an apricot muffin with diced chestnuts littered over it like rocks on a sandy beach. He glanced at the forest below, at the mass of myrtle, lime, deep, and olive greens. The birds had stopped singing and had gone off to hunt. With a grunt, Abbot Ryhlo commented,

"The forest is as quiet as you old friend,"

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**(At the lands of the Cat Tribes)**

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A bulking mass of burly muscle, auburn fur, masterfully-crafted armor, claws, teeth, and two eyes like a duo of glossy, yellow moons hovering in a sky of amber fur. This was Yuyego the Brutal, son of Ulmbak the Conquerer, and the master of a legion of vermin all willing to jump off a cliff for him. In his stone and timber fortress on the edge of an expansion of grasslands. He sat upon a throne of elm, and beech. Its elegance couldn't be even remotely crafted by him of any his legion, but neither was any of his fortress. Behind him was a quivering fox, it was shaking like leaf in a tornado. The fox couldn't help but twitch uncontrollably as Yuyego began to speak in his deep voice.

"Skulltooth, you have been my loyal Lieutenant, you have raised towns, and burnt villages," Suddenly his eyes turned from dull and docile, to two burning infernos of rage, "So tell me why half the force I sent with you to turn the next village to rubble didn't return!?"

The fox managed to stammer, "Well... the cats... um... the-"

With a mighty thrust, Yuyego's huge paw was around Skulltooth's neck, and the fox's frame was pinned to the wall. With a snarl Yuyego, spat out,

"Out with it, did you swallow your tail?!"

"They took up arms... the cats... every one of them... used anything... spears to... table legs!" Skulltooth gasped out, taking intervals to breath in oxygen. In rage the wolf through the fox straight into a table. With a crash the table crumbled under the force like rock smashing an egg. In the devastated ruins of the table the fox hobbled to his feet as Yuyego bellowed at him.

"Round up your troops and get marching, I want the only thing left of that village to be tremendous amounts of ash, soot, and the reek of death!"

With a salute, the fox flew out of the room and dashed down the flight of stairs. Watching from above, Yuyego snarled and obliterated a nearby bench to rubble with his fist. He stomped over to a window and looked outwards at the lands. _'Soon this will all be mine, every bit.'_ He promised himself. He was the son of Ulmbak the Conquerer, and he wasn't called the conquerer for nothing.

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**(In a cat village)**

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Patrolling a crude barricade of timber logs, Vavyan Wildgale, clutched a cutlass he pried from a dead weasels paws. The feral cat was dressed in a simple tunic of green that went well with his ebony pelt. His barkcloth belt was woven to hold rations and water but now held a sling and a hatchet. All around him mothers were ushering there kittens into fortified huts. Cats where readying arrows and cleaning off blades they took from the dead enemies. Others where sharping stakes for javelins and spears, while others scurried about for smooth pebbles for ammunition. These peaceful cats weren't going to flee from there lands. Vavyan knew these cats, they were his friends, some his family. Despite there differences, they all had one thing in common, they were fellow tribe cats, so they were willing to die to protect each other. That was something that Yuyego and his horde could never understand, they were divided and backstabbers. Yet the vermin legions sheer numbers would be enough to take there tribes down. He knew it and Vavyan knew that if the feral cats would ever be able to defeat them, and that unity between the tribes must be in order. The fierce Wildgale's eyes slitted, and he solemnly promised himself. _'We will unite, even if I have to do it myself'_ yet before he could think of how, an arrow-shaft he embedded itself just a whisker-length away from Vavyan. He turned to yell at a novice feral cat archer to look where he aimed. His eyes shot up in surprise at what he saw. His dashed off to a small brass bell and began ringing it like there was no tomorrow. Archer's notched there arrows, stone-slingers armed there slings, and javelin-throwers grabbed their stakes. In the masses order finally fell and cats lined up on the wall. In the sunlight they all could see the silhouettes of a vermin platoon.

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**Well I have to end it at a cliffhanger again... sorries**

**Remember to review and I'll have a new chapter up soon!**


	4. Silence!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Redwall… sniff**

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**"Silence!"**

As the rustic, morning light poured over the cliff-side and turned the waterlogged wood of the obliterated armada to auburn brown. Across the amber decks, vermin scuttled searching for plunder and anything of value. Most notable was Gritpaw the stoat, who had been ordered by Veyak Triago to find any last loot. Grimly the stoat hunted over the pine planking, overturning any movable object. Gritpaw knew if he returned empty handed, the ferret captain would skin him alive and use him for fish-bait. Across the timber he scampered, investigated any glint of light, or any golden colors. Finally he rose from the wrecked ruins of a mast. Clutched in his paw was a silver paw-ring, perched atop of it was burnt orange topaz. The glittering stone looked like a small, glassy sun in the morning light. With a relieved sigh he began to run to the shore, towards a large tent made of cloaks sewn together like a patchwork quilt.

Inside Veyak Triago, the ferret privateer captain ripped the meat off a roasted shorebird. The lavish interior was filled with all manner of treasure his loyal lieutenants had all brought back. Golden goblets laden with gems, copper bracelets dotted with brilliant emeralds, and countless other items of great value. Veyak watched three lieutenants, Scallopshard the fox, Hogpaw the weasel, and Swordcross the rat; load the treasure into brass caskets. The ferret kept a close eye on them, to make sure they didn't steal anything for themselves. He barely diverted his attention when Gritpaw entered. In a harsh tone, he spoke,

"Gritpaw, is this all you have recovered?" Veyak snarled, "A simple ring with a rock on it!"

"But sire-"

"Silence!"

Gritpaw could see the enraged look on his captain's face, and could hear the jackal-like laugh of his shipmates. Under his matted, ebony fur, his skin turned from pale khaki, to a dull pink, like a budding rose. He silently scolded himself for just delivering Veyak a simple loop of silver with a topaz embedded in it. Gritpaw was the first mate, and should have delivered something grand, majestic, and with a brilliant luster. Slowly Gritpaw was falling out of favor with his captain. He had heard stories of carcasses of lieutenants being discovered. Prior to their death, they had failed Veyak's orders. Gritpaw didn't even breathe when the ferret began to speak.

"Gritpaw… round up two score troops, I'll deal with your failure later," He sneer at Gritpaw one final time before turning to Scallopshard.

"Scallopshard, you're in charge until I get back, make sure every bit of loot has been extracted from the fleet." With that Veyak marched out of his tent, scuttling after him was a very worried Gritpaw.

* * *

**(In a small, seaside town)**

* * *

Augustus Oakleaf was a simple cook; he was preparing food for the town of Seawind's annual November Feast. His petite paws dropped sweet-smelling herbs into the cloudy concoction that was bubbling merrily in a bronze cauldron. Swiftly he wielded a knife the quickly bit through a turnip like a steel blade against soft cheese. Into the pot in went and slowly the vegetables began to bob in the boiling liquid. A delicate aroma wafted from the soup and danced around Augustus sensitive nose. The squirrel seemed to be put into a trance by the odors magnificent scent. It was soon broken by a sharp rapping on the sturdy, maple doorway. Quickly, Augustus put down his ladle and swiftly scampered to the entrance and opened it with a creak. He nearly fainted at what he saw. Forty armed vermin, and resonating from them was a sinister chuckle.

To the squirrels surprise they parted and let a ferret walk by. Draped around his frame was a crimson cloak, under it was a tunic of soft yellow, like that of a jubilant sun. Around his waist was a scarlet sash, and atop hid cranium was a mahogany-colored tricorn with a cherry-colored feather protruding from it. He dipped his head and removed the hat and placed it at his heart, the ferret then began to speak.

"Greetings good chef, I am Veyak Triago, and I think that stew smells utterly amazing,"

Placing the cap on his head and sauntering past Augustus, he grabbed the ladle and dipped it gingerly into the soup. He removed it and gently sipped the hot concoction. He smiled and placed the spoon back into the soup, he clapped his paws and four rats ran forward and grabbed the bronze pot and carried it away. Veyak gave a swift glance at his platoon and they took off rampaging, and taking anything of value. While this was happening, the corsair captain trotted through the kitchen and daintily nibbled breads and cheeses, and tossed them into a sack for later. He then began to take wines off an oak shelve. He gingerly sipped them and complemented them as he added them into his growing amount of food.

"You make a magnificent brew young squirrel; I must complement your damson wine."

"This elderberry is superb, the best I've ever tasted,"

"What a magnificent blackcurrant cordial,"

He continued along with his sampling until he came upon what he was looking for. It was a map, a vivid sketch of Mossflower from a birds eye view, made from ink dried onto a sheet of pure linen. He slowly picked it up and rolled it into a cylinder. A smile waltz across his face as he stored it under his cloak, softly chuckling to himself. He pulled a small piece of parchment out of his tunic and tossed it into the cooking fire. It was crudely drawn map; it showed most of the same things that the other map did. Yet the linen map drew Mossflower to so much detail one could even see the leaves on the trees. Veyak spoke once more before swiftly exiting with his vile vermin who had ransacked the place, overturning every pot and breaking furniture.

"What a delight it was been, but I must say good bye,"

* * *

**(In the lands of the Cat Tribes)**

* * *

An arrow-shaft flew past Vavyan and embedded itself in the old, elm timber. The black feral cat loaded his sling for the tenth time with a smooth pebble and took aim at a weasel. Letting the free of its linen bindings, it sailed through the air and met its target with disturbing accuracy. The weasel fell into the peaty earth never to get up and see another rustic sunrise. Around the black cat was a scene of chaos, fire blazing and arrows and stones raining from the sky like droplets of water on a stormy day. Shrill shrieks thundered through the air as vermin and cats died. Archers drew released there bowstrings and letting metallic arrowheads embed into the body of there enemies.

War cries echoed in the wind and the clash of steel resonated from the battle site. Swords, shields, staffs, spears, maces, flails, and a verity of sharp objects were drawn to fight back enemy vermin as they attempted to scale the barricade. One rat dropped from the wooden timbers right next to Vavyan and jabbed out with his spear. Only to find it ripped from his hands by the inky cat and have it sliced right through his body. The rat dropped like a stone and Vavyan turned his attention to more important matters. Such as fending off a legion of vermin that were right at his doorstep. The feline drew a blade from a dead stoat next to him. It wasn't much, just a simple hilt with a sharp piece of metal protruding out of it, but it was enough to skewer vermin.

No sounds entered Vavyan's mind, all he focused on was the battle ahead, battering off weapon-wielding attackers, and hacking through hordes of blood thirsty vermin. Foxes, stoats, rats, weasels, and ferrets all fell to him, but while he was busy cutting through the enemy and avoiding there blades. He failed to notice a wicked looking javelin aimed at his back, and the wielder, Skulltooth the fox captain.

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**Remember to review!**

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